


Tell Your Heart

by Ailette



Series: Prussian Blue [3]
Category: Primeval
Genre: Hand Jobs, Imported, Insecurity, M/M, discussion of Doctor Who
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-24
Updated: 2009-06-24
Packaged: 2018-06-05 05:33:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6691642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ailette/pseuds/Ailette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor has his first doubts about his new relationship with Lester.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell Your Heart

This was, in so many ways, not how Connor Temple had imagined this evening to go. Earlier, when he’d softly rapped his knuckles on the large window of his boss' office, he’d only meant to signal that he was about to head home. To his surprise, Lester had nodded, hit a button on his overly complicated phone and stood up to put his jacket back on, while talking to someone who Connor assumed to be whichever unlucky sod was replacing Lorraine today. He made their now well-practised gesture for ‘Wait at the car,’ and started sorting through the multitude of files on his desk. So, yes, Connor had assumed that Lester had finally decided to take their relationship that next step forward and therefore freed his afternoon and evening. 

He had not assumed the older man would simply take the files back home and continue working while bent over the coffee table, only occasionally glancing up to make disapproving noises over Connor’s choice of television program. So far, the only real development since last week’s dramatic confessions were the kisses they traded (and even those were rare) and the fact that Lester allowed him to watch whatever he wanted on the telly (though that didn’t mean he wouldn’t make his unhappiness over Sci-Fi very clear).

Even if he did take into account that it had barely been more than one week, he was reasonably certain that things weren’t supposed to go _this_ slow. They were practically going backwards, despite Connor’s best efforts. Deciding that Lester didn’t like being pushed into anything, he’d done the smart thing in getting them into a handful of really nice, really private, really bleeding obvious romantic situations and waited for Lester to make a move. He hadn’t known he’d ended up with the one bloke in the whole of  England who actually matched the stereotype of an almost cold and emotionally very much distracted gentleman. If the whole thing wasn’t so bloody frustrating, it would be funny. His mum always had worried about a possibly impolite daughter-in-law who put out before the wedding night. So far, there was absolutely no danger of that (apart from the _obvious_ discrepancy with that image.)

Absently, he watched as the Doctor ran from one angry looking alien to the next on the screen, his eyes beginning to wander to the man next to him on the couch again. The way he sat… It didn’t look very comfortable. And he was narrowing his eyes at the papers in front of him, obviously having trouble reading in the dim light of the television. Connor would suggest switching on a light again, but the last time he did that, he’d been rewarded with a worryingly lethal glare for his troubles. Carefully, he just leaned sideways and switched on the small lamp on the end table, not turning to give the impression that the action had been entirely unrelated to Lester’s situation. It was weird. Shouldn’t he be all happy and over the moon right now? Hadn’t they achieved their Happily Ever After when Lester had given in to his clumsily mumbled confessions and kissed him senseless? 

Connor sighed silently, half-heartedly focusing on the waaarp-ing sounds of the TARDIS again. Maybe that was where the problem lay. Lester had _given in_. ‘How long until you realise this is a mistake?’ The question was still echoing inside his head and he was still absolutely certain of his feelings for the older man. It was more than just a silly little schoolboy crush. He _wanted_ this man. It just looked like Lester had been the one to lose interest in Connor. In a matter of days.

And that just wasn’t bloody fair. How could Lester tease him, doubt him, snog the life out of him and then just forget all about his intentions? Connor let his shoulders slump and snuggled further back into the cushions. Another sideward glance revealed Lester to be blissfully unaware of Connor’s pathetic state of mind and still glowering down at the words in front of him. Although there was now clearly enough light to make the words out – and suddenly, the solution for at least this little mystery hit Connor. 

Little clues put themselves together inside his head, providing a quick flash of memories. The way Lester was rubbing the brink of his nose whenever he had focused on some files or the computer screen for too long. How at his first day here, Lester had rummaged through the bathroom, come out with something in his hand he quickly stored in his bedroom and threatened Connor a very painful end should he ever even contemplate peeking into said bedroom. The fact that though he knew Lester read a lot (the many books throughout the flat would have already been a dead give-away), he’d never once seen Lester with a book in his hands. 

His boss was short-sighted and too proud to wear his glasses around Connor. 

The thought made Connor simultaneously angry and disappointed, because it could only mean one thing (and he didn’t bloody care that he just might be jumping to conclusions here because of his foul mood). Lester saw his needing glasses as a weakness, maybe a sign for his age and he hadn’t wanted Connor to see it. Or, maybe, he thought darkly, Lester hadn’t trusted him enough. He was after all very peculiar when it came to maintaining his image as the cold and efficient leader; not even wanting anyone to know that he was helping Connor out in the form of letting him live with him. Connor felt his fingers curl into a fist at his side and he bit down on his lip to keep from outright yelling at the man next to him. Who were they even kidding? Lester was fed up with Connor already and probably just couldn’t be bothered to tell him. He’d given them a test run of a couple of days and then decided that their differences were to big after all, or that Connor wasn’t worth the effort. And that… that was just cruel.

His eyes began to sting and Connor had to suppress the urge to quickly wipe them, because he would _not_ cry in front Lester. That would only prove the other man right in his assertion of his employee. So instead, he tried to focus on the screen again, finding the appearance of several UNIT soldiers absolutely unworthy of his attention. He should just excuse himself and go to bed already. Maybe tomorrow he would have the courage to ask… No, he wouldn’t. The whole situation may not make him happy, but this was the only chance he had for being with Lester. He couldn’t just give up like that. He swallowed against the lump he felt in his throat and inwardly shook his head at himself. He couldn’t give this up. No matter how bad he felt with the knowledge that Lester probably didn’t return his feelings, or had changed his mind, or had realised that he didn’t fancy being with a man after all, or whatever the bleeding hell was going on inside his head; if he walked away from him, it would be a thousand times worse.

“I can’t for the life of me understand why you keep watching this.”

Oh, fantastic. Of course _now_ would be the moment Lester decided that he wanted to start a conversation. Now, when Connor wasn’t sure his voice would be steady enough to get two words out without breaking while uttering them. Luckily for Connor, Lester didn’t actually seem to expect him to participate in his oncoming debate. 

“The writing and the special effects are horrendous, half the actors aren’t actually _capable_ of acting and that Scottish bloke talks like he’s having the trip of his life.” He took a deep breath and Connor felt somehow comforted by the knowledge that Lester’s rant would require some more air and time. It gave him the time he needed to calm down again. He wasn’t usually this emotional, just very quick to go from one emotion to the exact opposite in a matter of seconds. It was one of those habits that always got him into trouble; just like the endless curiosity, the jumping to conclusions without much to go on or the far too easily handed out trust. The thought sobered him up a little, making it easier to concentrate on the older man’s steady voice, speaking with surprising vehemence that quickly got Connor’s attention.

“Really. ‘Monsters’ and scripts like that were acceptable in the sixties. Maybe even in the seventies and eighties, but by today’s standard? This show should be taken off the air. They are shooting a good thirty years of canon into the wind with every one of those so called _story arcs_. They even ruined UNIT! A well respected military organisation with good intentions has suddenly just turned into a ruthless, hostage-taking, trigger-happy, sad little wannabe military regime.”

Connor found his eyes drawn to Lester in wide disbelief, dimly aware that his mouth had dropped open. It was… very hard to remember what he’d just been thinking about. The mere fact that Lester was getting worked up over a fictional military organisation – one he shouldn’t actually ever have heard of if one were to believe his enormous dislike for everything looking remotely like science fiction – was distracting enough to lead Connor’s thoughts in a completely different direction. And he was just the slightest bit ashamed that the first conscious thought that came to him was an inappropriately relieved ‘We _do_ have things in common!’ followed closely by a smug ‘And he cares enough to tell me.’ 

The really interesting reactions to Lester’s little rant however weren’t actual, clearly pronounced thoughts. It was a far more basic feeling that overcame him as he watched and listened to the heated statement the older man was making. He felt his mouth running dry and his eyes widen - Lester’s rant on Doctor Who was inexplicably hot. 

“At least they didn’t bring the Brigadier back into this mess of character development they’ve got going now. What kind of idiot reinvents a clearly as asexual defined character as a paedophile with a kink for teenage girls? He’s supposed to be at least over nine hundred years old and suddenly he discovers that, hey, actually snogging everyone who comes his way is the way to go. Just think about it. I was cautious of our age difference. This is simply indecent .” 

With an overly energetic motion of his hand to emphasise his point, Lester turned to Connor, looking for confirmation. What he did see clearly took him by surprise. Connor’s breathing had sped up considerably, his lips still were parted slightly and he couldn’t help but simply stare at Lester’s mouth. A mouth that quirked into a half-smile, half-worried line when Lester cleared his throat and asked,

“Connor?”

And Connor had severe trouble getting his mind to work because, God, he was so turned on right now, it wasn’t even funny. Except Lester’s eyes were roaming his body for some kind of sign of what was going on and he found the answer when they dropped to Connor’s lap. Connor gulped at the way the light green eyes focused on the bulge in his pants – not hard enough to be painful but easily visible – and in turn was completely enticed by the quick flash of pink as Lester’s tongue shot out and wetted his lower lip. 

When he started talking, his voice was unusually raspy and he had to stop for a split second before he got the words out. 

“Kiss me.”

Lester looked taken aback by the request and Connor felt a brief but painful stab of uncertainty again. Desperate for any kind of touch, any kind of reassurance, he reached out to curl his fingers into the fabric of Lester’s light blue shirt, rumpling up what had survived a whole day at the office. He didn’t push or pull Lester, just very carefully looked up at him from under his eyelashes.

“Please,” he whispered breathlessly and to his utter astonishment, Lester took one deep breath before he abruptly surged forward with a barely audible growl. He buried Connor in the soft white material of the couch as he pressed him down, his hands coming up to cup Connor’s cheeks as he dived in for a breathtaking kiss. The hold seemed to anchor Connor, immobilise him under the fierce assault on his mouth. Distantly, he thought that he should at least try to keep the moaning to a minimum, but just then Lester started sucking at the tip of his tongue and the noises he made didn’t seem all that important anymore.

Instead, he just gave in to the delicious feeling of being trapped under Lester’s body, curling and uncurling his fingers fruitlessly on the other man’s chest. One of Lester’s hands had taken on other plans meanwhile, straying from Connor’s now flushed cheeks down over the sensitive skin of his throat and into the opening of the shirt he was wearing. He started drawing what felt like magical symbols onto the bit of exposed collarbone, remaining there only shortly before he let it travel further south to tuck the shirt up and splay his hand on the flat of Connor’s stomach. The movement made Connor gasp and Lester drew back fractionally, taking in the image of the panting Connor underneath him before he delved back down, licking over the skin he’d just caressed with his fingers a moment before. The long wet streaks over his skin nearly let Connor lose track of Lester’s hand which was now busy fumbling open the button and zip of his jeans and suspiciously often just gliding over Connor’s erection instead, each time drawing a moan from the younger man.

Lester seemed to revel in the noises the younger man made and Connor abandoned all thought of trying to suppress them any longer. A second later, when Lester bit down on his neck and consequently started to caress the spot with his tongue immediately afterwards, Connor realised that the decision had been taken from him anyway. He was very sensitive around his neck and was caught between groaning in pleasure at the ministrations and gasping in surprise when the pressure on his cock suddenly lifted and was replaced by a warm and large hand.

He wasn’t going to last long like this. Lester seemed to know just what buttons to push to get the maximum amount of pleasure out of him. The older man let his fingers slide over the length of his shaft, playful at first and then wrapping his whole fist around it and applying just the right amount of pressure to make Connor sure he’d just seen stars. He started jerking him off, moving steadily and controlled in precise up and down movements even as he started breathing a lot more heavily himself, obviously just as aroused by all this as Connor was. Connor could feel Lester's hard cock pressing against his still jeans-clad thigh and made an unintelligible sound. Lester bit down on another patch of skin, dangerously close to the neckline of most of Connor’s t-shirts and this time, he started sucking on it with intent, bruising the skin thoroughly before drawing back a little to admire his work and start nipping at it. 

“Lester—” Connor managed somehow to hiss out, the breath rushing out of him almost immediately as one of Lester’s fingers travelled down further and gently flicked his balls before the others followed and squeezed carefully. Connor arched his back nearly clear off the couch, his head thrown back with something that had once been supposed to be a word tumbling past his lips. And Lester – the bastard just chuckled, a dark and rich sound that drove goose bumps all over Connor’s body even before the hand was back around his cock and started stroking in earnest. A few harsh and quick slides of that hand and Connor’s hips started bucking up wildly, completely out of control. He was so close…

“Please,” he started again, not able to get even one word out without sounding like something out of a bad porno film. “Please—I need— _Oh,_ _God_!”

And this time Lester didn’t chuckle but did tighten his grip fractionally and before Connor could utter another word he was coming, hard and fast and gasping like he’d spent the last few minutes under water and not receiving the most amazing hand job of his life. 

Lester continued to stroke his slowly softening length, watching with a heated gaze as Connor shuddered through the effects of his orgasm. Using the hand that was still cupping the younger man’s chin, he tilted Connor’s head upwards so he had easier access when he leaned down to kiss him deeply.

Connor felt inexplicably lazy, all of a sudden. Just lying here, sprawled out on the couch with his jeans and boxers around his hips and warm come on his stomach with Lester on top of him, it all seemed like a Nobel Prize worthy idea. He was distantly aware of the shouting and sound of explosions coming from the telly and nearly started laughing at the inappropriate soundtrack to their first love-making. Then again, when he mustered up a little more effort and thought about it, it _was_ kind of fitting; considering how complicated everything they did quickly became. Above him, Lester started to shuffle around, drawing Connor’s complete attention back to him when he abruptly untangled himself from the younger man to sit back on the couch, wiping his hand clean on a handkerchief he’d produced from God knew where. 

Connor whined a little at the sudden loss of warmth and almost immediately followed. After all, they certainly weren’t done yet. Connor could see the way Lester’s trousers were bulging, the slight flush of his cheeks and he reached out, very deliberately not thinking too much about it in fear that he might lose his nerve otherwise. Lester must have seen the movement out of the corner of his eyes and turned to look at Connor, pupils dilated and looking… surprised? Before Connor had any more time to contemplate that, Lester got up from the couch in one graceful motion.

“I think I’ll be heading to bed now, if you don’t mind,” he said and his voice sounded strained. 

Connor quite literally felt his jaw drop. “What?”

Lester sighed in fake exasperation. “ Me. Bed. Now.” 

“But you haven’t--”

“Good night, Mr. Temple.” 

And just like that, Connor snapped. He was up and in front of Lester in a matter of seconds, only slightly hindered by his open jeans. “I _do_ mind,” he ground out and hoped that he only imagined the shiver that ran over him as he was speaking.

Lester looked honestly taken aback, eyes darting left and right before settling on Connor who was very effectively blocking the path to the hallway. “Whatever are you talking about?”

Connor let out a rattling breath. Why did it all have to be this difficult? “You can’t go to bed yet. Not like that,” he made a shy gesture towards Lester’s groin, keeping his eyes firmly cast down. For a moment, it looked like the older man was at least contemplating his words and Connor, a little more confident, added, “Let me repay the favour.”

He knew he’d said the wrong thing as soon as the words left his mouth and Lester’s whole body tensed.

“That won’t be necessary,” Lester said icily and made to push past Connor, only to be stopped by very insistent hands grabbing onto his arm. 

“What’s going on? I don’t get this,” Connor’s voice sounded as desperate as he felt. “I don’t get _you_. If you don’t want me, why did you just do that with me? Are you playing some sort of game with me again and I’m just not getting it? Because it doesn’t feel like a whole lot of fun, I’ve got to tell you.”

Startled, Lester shook his head. “I’m not playing a… Is that really what you think?”

He sounded disappointed and damn him, he really didn’t have any right to feel that way. Connor was being the one jerked around here. “Well, what am I supposed to think? First you don’t touch me at all, then you bring me off and try to vanish right afterwards. Tell me, what _am_ I supposed to think?”

Lester sank his head in something that looked like shame. “I didn’t intend for you to feel unwanted,” he began and sounded painfully sincere. “I just don’t want… Look, Connor, we’ve talked about this before. Or maybe we haven’t, actually, but it’s been brought up. Not in so many words, although…” he trailed off, sighed and turned a little to directly face Connor who was still clutching at him like he was afraid that the older man was about to run if he let go.

“I’m not good at this. With… talking about everything.” He made a rather odd gesture with his free hand that probably summed up his feelings about emotional talks very well. “I never find the right words for it and I eventually end up making people think the exact opposite of what I mean. And that’s all the warning you’re going to get.” He gave Connor a stern look, waiting for the slightly confused nod before he came to the point. “I don’t want to force you into anything.”

It sounded so simple, so short and so completely different from everything Connor dreaded. And, okay, Lester had mentioned his uncomfortableness over their age difference (among all the other things) before. It just hadn’t really hit Connor that the older man actually felt _guilty_ about it. “You think – what? That you’re taking advantage of me?”

Lester muttered something that could have been anything from ‘Shut up’ over ‘Of course’ to ‘Sorry’. And Connor outright gaped at him. “I might be younger than you and your employee, but I’m not some kind of… of… love-starved teenager who can’t say no because he’s too bloody excited about the chance of getting some!”

Lester flinched at that and Connor bitterly realised that he’d hit closer to home with that statement than he’d liked. Still angry, but also strangely satisfied by the fact that Lester did in fact care enough to worry about things like that, he lessened his grip on Lester’s arm, letting his hands slide down to catch the older man’s hand in his. He let his thumb brush over the knuckles, distracted by the sight of Lester’s fingers elegantly entwining with his almost instantly like it was an instinct he couldn’t possibly suppress, he just watched for a moment, making up his mind about what he still needed to say.

“I know what I want,” he stated firmly. “I want you and I’ve told you that. I can’t help it if you don’t believe me, but I wouldn’t just fall into bed with everyone who shows me a bit of attention. Only with you.”

At first, Connor was afraid that he’d said too much, that he’d scared Lester away and he wasn’t sure how he would handle that, but then Lester sighed. It wasn’t his usual ‘The world must hate me’- or ‘I’m very exhausted by this turn of events’-sigh, it sounded like an odd mixture of relief and frustration. 

“I’ll have to take your word for it, then.” 

Connor felt the beginning of a grin threatening to spill onto his lips and no doubt Lester saw it, too. 

“Don’t think I’m not seeing the pattern of you convincing me to commit to rather unreasonable courses of action,” Lester warned, but the way he was also looking down to their joined hands ruined the effect.

“I’ve got one that’s pretty reasonable,” Connor offered with the grin now in full blossom. “And I think you’d like it.”

Lester cocked an eyebrow and Connor’s heart jumped a little at the sight. “And what would that be?”

“First, you take me to your bedroom,” Connor said, trying for his best seductive tone and hoping that his efforts weren’t lost on Lester. He tugged a little and Lester easily started walking them in the right direction. “Then, you put on your glasses—”

Lester’s steps faltered, but Connor continued walking with faked nonchalance. “And I’ll show you how much I appreciate you wearing them in front of me.”

He threw a quick glance backwards to see if he’d got his message across and indeed, a very soft smile was tugging at his boss' lips when he said, “You’re right. I’d like that.”

**Author's Note:**

> (Originally posted at http://ailette.livejournal.com/23112.html#cutid2)  
> Beta: fififolle  
> A/N: Written for prompt #07 Kindness from 12_stories .


End file.
